


If Tears could Bring you Back...

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Every chapter is character death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...I'm staying strong, not because I want to, but because it's all I have now. But if tears could bring you back...I'd have enough to bring you back a thousand times." —Mickey Anderson</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justalotoffeelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalotoffeelings/gifts), [in_a_blog_in_the_ground](https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_a_blog_in_the_ground/gifts).



> Because angst is very important, is it not? ;)

Dori crept toward the threshold of his parents’ room. He was somewhat anxious. Ama had been in there for quite a long time, and Dori didn’t understand why she kept shouting and being noisy. Oftentimes when he was loud, she would scold him and tell him not to yell.

The door was closed, but when Dori pressed his ear against the wood, he could hear the voices of Fori, his Adad, and Jalane, his Ama.

“We can always try again, dearest,” Adad was saying, in a tone much gentler than he usually used. When Dori listened more carefully, he could hear his Ama quietly sobbing.

Alarmed, Dori leapt away from the door as though he’d been slapped. What was wrong with Ama? Mustering his courage, he beat on the door with his tiny fists.

A Dwarf that Dori didn’t recognize opened it. The stranger turned to Adad and said his name.

Fori looked past the doctor and saw little Dori standing there, trembling.

“What’s wrong?” Dori asked, fear hitching in his voice. He wrung his little hands in a way that was eerily adult-like.

“Come here, my love,” Ama sniffed. Dori did so, tentatively. Ama leaned toward him, holding a small lump toward him. “This...” Ama said, and took a shuddering breath. “This is Jori. He’s your little brother.”

Dori’s blue eyes grew round. “My brother?” he echoed curiously.

“Yes.”

Before Jalane could stop him, Dori very carefully touched the infant’s cheek. His brows furrowed in perplexion. “He’s cold, Ama. Do you want me to get another blanket?”

By this time Fori had his head buried in his hands. Jalane, therefore, knew she had to take charge.

“No, Dori,” she said firmly. “Little Jori is...” She hesitated.

“He’s sleeping?” Dori pressed.

Ama pressed her eyes closed and took another gulp of air. “Yes, love. He’s sleeping. But this is a different sleep, Dori. He isn’t going to wake up. At least, not here.”

Dori’s face became indignant. “Where else will he wake up? Is someone going to take him? I won’t let them! He’s _my_ brother! I get to keep him!”

“Dori. Sometimes,” Ama said sadly, “sometimes families are given babies that are unique. They don’t...grow up all the way. Jori is one of those unique ones. He’s not going to grow.”

Dori blinked uncomprehendingly. “He’ll stay like he is?”

“Yes, dear. He’ll stay like this for a very long time.”

“Will he stay asleep for the very long time?”

“...Yes. He will stay asleep.”

Dori studied her, and then asked slowly, “Once the long time is over, he won’t need to sleep anymore? He’ll wake up?”

“No, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” Dori was starting to get frightened again. What was going on? Why wouldn’t Jori wake up? Why was the stranger in the corner looking so sorry for them? Why, for the first time in Dori’s memory, was Adad crying? And why was Ama evading his questions?

“His life is not with us,” Jalane quavered.

In a split second Dori began to understand. His face drained of color as he quailed, “He’s not...lifed?” Being ‘lifed’ meant warmth and laughter and big eyes staring out from a pudgy face. Jori had none of those things, Dori realized.

Regardless of her son’s poor grammar, Ama nodded as if he’d explained it perfectly. “That’s right. Lord Mahal didn’t life your brother. Instead, he took him to be in the Halls of Waiting. He’ll be there to greet us when we are...un-lifed.”

Dori took a step away from her, eyes wide in horror. What had Jori done to deserve being un-lifed? How had his brother so angered Mahal that he had withheld ‘lifed’ from him?

Dori’s face crumpled and, bursting into tears, he whirled and fled. He could hear his mother calling for him, but he ignored her and ran to his room. Slamming the door, he crawled beneath his bed, curling into himself and sobbing until he remembered no more.

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________


	2. Chapter 2

Nori sat at his older brother’s feet, playing with some carved wooden figures. He’d specifically named them, and he would cry out dramatically, altering his voice to match each character.

“Fori, take me with you to battle!” Nori pleaded in a rather fair imitation of their mother. His voice dropped three octaves as he argued, “I’m sorry, Jalane, I can’t do that. You are to stay here with the children!” “But Dori needs a father to teach him not to boss! He—”

“Teach me not to boss?” Dori said, looking up from his knitting. Nori tried to look guiltless, blinking unknowingly back at him.

“Did I say that?” Nori asked innocently.

Dori scowled at him and returned to the stitches.

“...If I can’t go with you, at least take Jori! He’ll make sure you come home!”

Dori’s head jerked up a second time. “What?” he asked, his voice strangely hoarse.

Nori grinned. “Jori. He’s this one,” he explained proudly, holding up one of the soldiers. “He’s Adad’s bodyguard, and—”

Dori’s hand flashed out and seized the soldier, snatching it away from him. “Oi! Dori!” Nori cried in dismay.

“Don’t ever say that name again!” Dori snapped severely. “ _Ever!_ ”

Nori’s topaz brown eyes welled with tears. His lower lip trembled as he quavered, “I’m s-sorry, Dori, I...I didn’t...”

Dori gave a small sigh and returned the soldier to his hand. “Here. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be angry with you.”

Nori nodded, sniffing slightly. He stared down at his soldiers, but he was no longer in the mood to play. Dori looked ashamed for being harsh with him, but Nori didn’t know why the name ‘Jori’ was so upsetting to him.

A week later, Ama pulled Dori into her room. Nori was unsure why she looked so upset, but he knew that whatever it was, Dori would calm her down. His brother was just that way.

That evening Nori paced impatiently between the kitchen and the hallway. At last Nori stood with his hands planted on his thin hips. “Dori, where’s Adad?” he demanded of his brother, who was cooking supper. “When’s he coming home?”

Dori froze, and then said nervously, “It’ll be soon, Nori. He went on a trip and just hasn’t returned yet.”

“Then he must be naked, because he left all his clothes. I checked,” Nori announced, studying him distrustfully. He hoped Dori understood right clear that he may be young, but he was no idiot.

“You probably didn’t check well enough.”

Nori nodded slowly, and suddenly smiled. “Okay.” Dori must be right. Adad was a busy Dwarf, and he couldn’t be home all the time. Nori shrugged it off. He would be good and patient, and perhaps Adad would bring him a present when he returned. He left, for it seemed that brother Dori had things on his mind.

Dori did, indeed. He’d just decided that Nori was an odd child. There were times where Nori seemed so sneaky and clever, and then there were times when he seemed the age he truly was: only seven years old, naïve and innocent about everything.

Days passed, and Dori took over the running of the house. Ama needed time to mourn her loss. It was truly _their_ loss, and Dori needed time to mourn too, but he knew that time wouldn’t come until later. He couldn’t leave his brother to starve.

Dori remembered staring at Nori bundled up in a tiny blanket, just as Jori had been. When Nori’s tiny lips had turned blue, and his eyes had fluttered shut, Dori had screamed in terror, wondering if all his brothers were to be cursed with un-life. But Nori had pulled through, and though he was a pale and thin seven-year-old, he lived.

Nori, meanwhile, didn’t understand why Ama never came out of her room. He complained about how Dori’s food wasn’t like hers and how Ama never kissed him goodnight or read him stories anymore. Eventually he just had to ask again.

“When is Adad coming home?” This time Nori wasn’t impatient. Instead, he felt somewhat anxious.

“Here’s your supper,” Dori sighed wearily, ignoring the question. Nori watched in concern as Dori sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. He seemed exhausted, but Nori didn’t know why or how to help him.

That night, Nori awoke from a terrible nightmare about his father. He couldn’t bring himself to waken Ama; therefore he found himself in his brother’s room. “Dori,” he whispered tearfully. “I’m scared!”

Dori gave a yawn as he sat up. “About what, Nori?”

“Adad! He’s been gone for _nine days_. I counted,” Nori whimpered. “I miss him. I want him. Where is he?! When will he be home?!”

Nori didn’t like the feeling of dread that was pooling in his stomach. If Adad were here, he would pick him up and settle him against his chest and chase away the frights that lurked in his heart. All would be well. Where, then, was his Comfort? Where, then, was the One who lifted him up?

“He’s not coming home,” Dori answered, his voice unusually sharp.

Nori was rather startled by this. “But...what about...Jori? He’s Adad’s bodyguard...”

 “It’s all in your _imagination_ , Nori!” Dori shouted. “There is no bodyguard! No one protects Adad! Adad is _dead!_ ”

Nori, petrified by his brother’s rage, gave a keen wail and turned, slamming into the doorframe before finding the carpet of the hall. He ran out the front door and down the path, his bare feet slapping the cold stones. At long last Nori collapsed from exhaustion. He didn’t know where he was, and didn’t care. All he wanted was his Adad, the one who would never come home.

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is considerably longer than the other two because it has all three brothers. :)

Ori didn’t understand the change that had come over his brothers. For the past few days they’d been acting quite abnormal and odd.

Dori used to spend the day with him, knitting or reading or simply talking. Now he mostly ran to and fro between the kitchen and their Ama’s room, like her personal servant. Ori secretly wished he could taste the teas that his older brother was brewing, for they smelled wondrous, as Dori’s concoctions always did.

Nori, meanwhile, was maintaining the house. It was peculiar, Ori thought. For the longest time he’d never seen Nori wet a rag and scrub the windows, or sweep, or wash the dishes. Now he was doing all of it at once, so frazzled and frantic to squeeze everything in that he barely said a word to his brothers all day.

Ori looked forward to the evenings, when at last they would all sit together for supper, and he could finally spend time with them. He would tell them how his drawings were turning out; he’d tell them how he’d at last mastered this or that difficult stitching technique. And they would listen, truly listen, even if their smiles were tired and barely reached their eyes and their voices were flatter than usual as they offered praise.

Ori also began to wonder why he was never allowed in his mother’s room anymore. He liked visiting her and telling her also about his day, but now whenever he knocked there was no answer, and when he quietly turned the handle it was locked.

It was all very odd. After a week of this strange new routine Ori had learned to swallow his disappointment and became accustomed to his brothers’ busyness.

However, one night, in the very late hours when Ori was supposed to be in bed, he slipped down stairs and sat by the threshold of the living room. He could see the flickering of a fire and could hear his brothers speaking in low tones.

“Is she still...?” That was Nori’s voice, although Ori could barely tell, he sounded so hoarse and exhausted.

“Yes,” Dori admitted. “Ruined the pillowcase _again_. I’m washing them as fast as I can, but I’m running out of spares. Thank heavens the little one hasn’t seen the stains...they’re frightful.”

“Aye,” Nori sighed. “I’ll buy some more in the morn.”

“More— _stains_?”

“Pillowcases,” Nori mumbled, hardly having enough energy to snap the word.

“Oh, yes, that’d be good.” Dori paused, and then said awkwardly, “I really, erm, appreciate how you’ve been...helping...and such.”

“Yeh. Thanks.” Nori ran his hands through his hair. “I’m so... _tired_ , Dori. _So tired_. I don’t know if I can keep...” His sentence ended in an impressive crashing sound, and Dori yelping out his brother’s name.

Ori streaked around the corner, eyes going wide when he saw Nori passed out on the floor. “What’s wrong with him?!” cried Ori in horror.

Dori didn’t bother to scold him yet. “Help me!” he commanded instead.

Once Nori was in his bed and his initial distress had subsided, Dori focused on severely admonishing his little brother for being up so late and for eavesdropping.

“Now go on. And this time, stay in bed!” Dori ordered sternly. Ori sulked. Dori was back to his fussy self.

He made his way toward the stairs, and then turned. “Dori,” he said in a small voice.

“Yes?”

“What...what stains were you and Nori talking about?”

Dori paused, and then managed a small, nervous laugh. “Oh, that. Ama just isn’t careful when she holds her teacups. She keeps spilling them.”

Ori was relieved that this was the explanation for Dori and Nori’s frustration. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, little brother. Sleep well.”

Ori did sleep well, and the next morning when he woke late, he bounded downstairs. He was very glad to see Nori sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea.

“Are you alright?” Ori asked anxiously.

Nori managed a weak grin. “So, you know about my little swoon. It was nothin’, really.”

Ori crossed his arms. “I helped Dori carry you up the stairs; you were really heavy.”

Nori rolled his eyes. “Good to hear.”

Ori sat next to his brother, watching how his hands trembled ever so slightly as they cupped his drink. “Careful not to spill your tea like Ama does,” Ori warned him. “Dori says she’s stained every last one of her pillows with it!”

Nori’s gaze darted to Dori, who was frantically nodding his head behind Ori’s back. Nodding along, Nori said slowly, “Yes...Ama’s tea...”

Once Nori was feeling a bit better he got back to the chores, and Dori still frequently ended up in their Ama’s room. Three weeks later, Dori came into Ori’s room while he was drawing. To Ori’s surprise, Nori was with him. Neither had any particular expression on their face, but something in their eyes made Ori set aside his notebook.

“What’s wrong?” Ori asked worriedly.

Dori sat on the bed facing him; Nori sank into a chair. “Ori,” Dori began quietly. “I need you to hear me out, without any interruptions. Do you understand?” At his youngest brother’s hesitant nod, Dori swallowed hard. “This is going to upset you. And you probably won’t understand it. Nori and I sure don’t. But we need you to be strong for us, alright?” Another nod, and still he hesitated. “It—”

“Just spit it out, Dori! Nothing you say is going to make it anything less than what it is!” Nori shouted, grief choking his words. His face fell into his hands, and Ori was astonished to see Nori’s thin shoulders quaking.

Dori’s eyes misted up then, too, and at last he whispered, “Our mother is gone.”

Ori’s heart plummeted. His mouth replayed the word, but no sound joined it. _Gone?_ He stared at his brothers in disbelief. Why on earth would Ama leave them?

Nori moaned around his fingers, “She’s been sick for a long time, but today she finally—” He broke off, and Ori understood.

It couldn’t be true! Ama was strong; whatever she put herself to, that was what she did, no matter the obstacles. But had this sickness at last conquered her willful spirit?

It was too much. Ori found that he was crying too. Dori wrapped his arms around him, but it didn’t ease the knot of heartache building up in his chest. Not in the least.

________________________________________________________________________________________________


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this work was only three chapters, but I have a guest who affected me with their comments and I wanted to dedicate an epilogue to them. 
> 
> For Kili99.

EPILOGUE

ONE MONTH LATER

Ori often found himself standing in the middle of The Room. He and his brothers never referred to it as anything else. The memories of their ama and adad spending time in this room were still too painful.

Still, Ori found himself drawn to it. He would sit on the bed and stare at the place where his ama often sat. He would sit here, and she would sit there. They would speak of his drawings, and she would help him with his sloppy stiches and they would giggle and share secrets and jokes he was going to play on Dori and Nori.

The death of their mother had rocked the balance of the household. It was hard on all three of them, but deep inside Ori wasn’t feeling as worried or sorry for himself as for his brothers.

Dori was in charge of everything now. The small amount of money that Ama had willed to her eldest son didn’t help much. Ori often found that the food in the pantry was slowly sneaking away. Ori couldn’t imagine how Dori remained so composed when he never had any time to grieve. Whenever Dori wasn’t cleaning the house or counting the money he was out looking for a job. Dori was an adult Dwarf, but he was a young adult, and was usually turned down because he didn’t look as hardy or tough as older Dwarves. He managed to get a job as an errand-runner for a seamstress, but that vanished as soon as he fell asleep from exhaustion. At the moment he was downstairs, trying to properly ration out something for breakfast. Day to day Ori could practically see the meat slipping off his eldest brother’s bones, the sacrifice Dori made so Ori could have his fill. Ori was grateful to him, but it hurt to see Dori tighten his belt a bit more each morning.

Nori had always been the street-smart of the three, now even more so. Nori usually snuck out when neither Ori nor Dori were looking. Ori barely saw him now; and when he did Ori felt very worried. Ever since the day Ama had died, a month before, Nori hadn’t spoken a word. Often Ori found himself staring at an empty chair at dinner, and when Nori was there he was practically invisible. Nori crept out again in the evening and came home at obscenely late hours. Ori was supposed to be asleep, but he often waited up with baited breath until he heard the soft footsteps up the stairs. What was perplexing, however, was what Nori brought home with him. Ori had once peeked out his bedroom door into the hallway and had watched in curiosity as Nori had pulled a small leathery pouch from his pocket. Other things began to appear around the house as well. Ori was absolutely certain that they had been out of proper meat—until that chicken appeared on the kitchen counter.

Ori gave a sigh and gently touched the fringe of his parents’ blanket. Dori had told him that Ama had sewn it for Adad as an anniversary present. When he closed his eyes Ori could practically see his mother sewing it. He wondered how she’d kept such a big blanket a secret. Likely she’d waited until Adad had gone to work and then taken it out and sewn.

Why was he filling his mind with nonsense? Why couldn’t he force himself to grieve and cry and then move on? It wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Ori felt emotion build up inside him, and then he pounded the bedspread in anger. Why?! What had their family done to deserve this?!

The tears did come now, quickly, trailing down Ori’s face and soaking the blanket his ama had sewn. Ori didn’t see Nori appear in the doorway.

Nori leaned against the doorway, a silent ghost, remaining invisible because he chose to. His face remained expressionless, but inside his heart was burning. Ori’s life would be a curse. He would have to grow up in the care of his brothers. Nori knew Ori would hurt because of it. Dori was more like their mother than he himself was; Dori would be a gentle and kindly—but strong—caretaker. Nori was like their father. He’d be no comfort to the lad. Even so Nori found himself stepping toward his little brother, kneeling next to him and wrapping him in an embrace.

Ori didn’t know which of his brothers it was who hugged him; he assumed it was Dori, because Nori was gone again. He buried his face in the rough shirt, trembling with the effort of collecting himself. Then Ori heard the voice he’d not heard for an entire month: “S’alright to cry, you know.”

Nori had gotten their mother’s voice—soft, but with a hint of something bleak, like silk that was frayed around the edges. It seemed as though Jalane herself had said the words. That was all it took. Ori was bawling, clinging to fistfuls of Nori’s shirt.

“Did we do something wrong, Nori?!” Ori cried between sobs. “Why did this happen?!”

Nori shook his head, closing his eyes against his own tears. “No, no, no, no...Please, Ori. Don’t ask questions I can’t answer.”

“But—!”

“Cry if you’re going to,” Nori pleaded. “But I can’t...I don’t...I don’t _know_ those things. I don’t think we’ll ever know.”

“But...it hurts so much!”

“Feelings don’t walk away. But people do.”

Nori and Ori looked toward the source of the last voice. Dori approached and knelt beside them. “I want you two to know something. We are a family. No family is perfect...We’ll argue, we’ll fight. We’ll even stop talking to each other at times. But in the end, family is _family_...The love will always stay if we want it to. Do you want it to?”

Ori slowly nodded, and Nori followed suit.

“So we stick together,” Dori continued quietly. “We press on, no matter what. And I promise to give everything I have for you.”

Even in his grief Ori felt a swell of love for these two. Perhaps they had needed the death of their parents to draw them closer together. When Ori considered that and gazed at his brothers, his guardians, the knot in his chest loosened just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I tried to make it happy. It's as happy as something can be after so much death.


End file.
